


Trust

by bigolegay



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Love and trust, and talk about breasts, corsets are special, mentions of scars, mild allusions to sex, self-conscious Isabela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigolegay/pseuds/bigolegay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was love, and she knew it because the corset came off."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

It was love, and she knew it because the corset came off. Merrill had often looked at it and wondered what Isabela looked like beneath it, without it. If the way she walked – all swaying hips and straight shoulders – was a product of the hard boning that pinched in her waist. If without the support the plump of her brown breasts would sag and separate, and the in of her waist would come out.

When she first asked these questions, voice dipping into low, curious tones with melodious notes as if to soften the blow of such intimate queries, Isabela had laughed. She had brushed them off in that semi-infuriating way she did, and with an air of casual finality. Merrill had learnt, then, that she could ask about any other piece of clothing. But the corset was out of bounds. She could ask about shoes and head-scarves and the great, heavy golden necklace she wore. She could trace the seams on her gloves, and tap her fingers over the warm, sweat-damp leather at the top of her boots. She could skip her hands onto plump flesh, follow the line of her fingers with her lips. The corset stayed on through it all, unquestioned. An excuse to cover the soft flesh of her vulnerable stomach. An excuse to not stay in Merrill's small bed that night but wander back to The Hanged Man and to her own quarters. An excuse to stay distant.

Merrill didn't mind, really. It wasn't her place. She knew, from the moment the smiles between the two of them had gone from sweet to sultry, that Isabela would never be hers. Would never be constrained. And she was happy for that. She was happy for the simple fact that it made Isabela happy. But it didn't keep her from wondering still about that great swathe of skin that remained covered at all times. In the days when traipsing through Kirkwall behind the impressive cut of Hawke's figure, in the evenings where their lips slid together and the weight of Isabela's breasts in Merrill's thin hands had her hot and wet, in the nights when they would lie together in the afterglow, Isabela's voice curling around a lewd memory and Merrill's eyes tracing the line of her arms and shoulders. But despite her naivety towards many of the customs of the world beyond her own Dalish upbringing, she understood that it was a matter of intimacy. Isabela shared her body like she shared her laughter – freely, quickly, and often. But there was always something of her that she kept entirely to herself. So when that kept thing – that secret – was uncovered, Merrill knew it was love.

“...What do you think?” Isabela asked, and to keep her fidgeting hands for reaching to cover herself up again, splayed them at her sides as if to display the newly revealed flesh like a present to a waiting recipient. Her wrists brushed the lines of old scars – one, two, three – and then her fingers curled back in onto the bulge of her stomach. Dark heavy hair drew a line to her bellybutton.

There was a moment of silence as Merrill breathed, mouth open and the corners of her mouth slightly hitched, and shook her head slowly. Her eyes glistened, and she took them from flesh to face. “I think you're beautiful.” She whispered with complete earnestness, and broke into a wide smile. 

 


End file.
